


Every Sinner Has a Future

by DreamingMoonlight



Series: The Fate of All Villains [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: And comic book style battles, Blatant remixing of Norse mythology, Epic quests, M/M, Post-Thor 2 Speculation and Rumored Spoilers, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingMoonlight/pseuds/DreamingMoonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Goodbye, Thor, and know that my love for you is true," Loki said against the skin of his neck, where Thor had but a moment to absorb his words, and then his brother was suddenly limp in his arms, sagging to the ground and not a single breath stirring his lungs.</p><p>Thor fell to his knees with Loki, still cradling the body and shouting his name loud enough to be heard throughout the ravaged clearing and well beyond, the heavy price his brother had paid hitting harder than any blow Thor could have dealt with Mjolnir.  It was far too much to ask of him, to have Loki torn away when he'd only just returned, that he would slip through Thor's fingers once more, this time further away than ever, *gone* in a way that meant Thor could not reach out for him any longer.  The space in his heart that Loki took up was hollowed out anew, empty and raw and wounded, so that Thor howled his rage and denial to the sky, in the form of his brother's name.</p><p>--</p><p>Sequel to Every Saint Has a Past, the second part of the trilogy.  Also known as, "The fic where Thor says, Fuck it, I'm going to Niflheim and fucking <i>all</i> the shit up until I get Loki's soul back."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Sinner Has a Future

**Author's Note:**

> There are many references to Norse mythology in this fic, as Thor travels to the Underworld to retrieve Loki's soul, which do not adhere to strict mythology _or_ comics canon. This is an MCU-based fic, so they were often reimangined in a way I thought would fit better with this world.
> 
> \- Jarnvidr is another name for the Iron Woods, where Angrboda lives  
> \- Gnipahellir is the the cave that the helhound Garmr guards, which is the entrance to Hel  
> \- The snow beast in Jotunheim looks similar to [this creature](http://marvelcinematicuniverse.wikia.com/wiki/File:Jotun.._johtun.._ahh_just_some_beast.png) except covered in white fur  
> \- Ymir lived in Niflheim and was the ancestor of all the frost giants  
> \- Hvergelmir is the wellspring of cold in Niflheim, where all the cold rivers start from  
> \- The Elivagar are the twelve rivers (or streams) of cold water that flow out from Hvergelmir, which fill up the emptiness of Ginnungagap  
> \- Gjoll is one of the twelve Elivagar, the one that flows closest to the gate of Hel, it was said to be freezing cold and having knives flowing through it, hence a bit of play on that  
> \- Nidhoggr is a giant dragon that lives in Niflheim and sucks on the corpses (souls?) of murderers and oathbreakers  
> \- Nastrond is basically "corpse shore", where Nidhoggr resides, where all the worst people go  
> \- Nidhoggr looks similar to [this drawing](http://tobiasmastgrave.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/the_dragon_nidhogg_by_vendetta535.jpg) only minus the wings and adding in short (for its size) clawed feet.  
> \- Gjallarbru is the covered bridge that spans the river Gjoll and is guarded by the giantess Modgudr, who allows the newly dead to pass if they state their name and business.
> 
> Countless thanks to [umakoo](http://umakoo.tumblr.com/) and [thescentofwhiteroses](http://thescentofwhiteroses.tumblr.com/) for their hand-holding and test-reading, they are invaluable to me.

"Goodbye, Thor, and know that my love for you is true," Loki said against the skin of his neck, where Thor had but a moment to absorb his words, and then his brother was suddenly limp in his arms, sagging to the ground and not a single breath stirring his lungs.

Thor fell to his knees with Loki, still cradling the body and shouting his name loud enough to be heard throughout the ravaged clearing and well beyond, the heavy price his brother had paid hitting harder than any blow Thor could have dealt with Mjolnir. It was far too much to ask of him, to have Loki torn away when he'd only just returned, that he would slip through Thor's fingers once more, this time further away than ever, _gone_ in a way that meant Thor could not reach out for him any longer. The space in his heart that Loki took up was hollowed out anew, empty and raw and wounded, so that Thor howled his rage and denial to the sky, in the form of his brother's name.

*

Two weeks later, Thor's rage had not dimmed, had instead only grown. Not even the return of his mother could assuage it for more than moments at a time, for her grief was as fresh as his, the fire of it fed with the kindling of knowing that Loki had sacrificed himself to bring her back to them, that truly he was beyond them now. She wept over the body they had returned with, unable to part with it even to sleep or eat, no words said between them when Thor joined her, only her small hand in his that he could hardly bear.

Thor loved her and could not be asked to choose between them, he could not resent her for being brought back. No matter the cost of it, he could not wish the choice had been otherwise made. To know that her soul had been saved from wandering in the void between Valhalla and Hel, it was a relief and he would have embraced Loki to thank him for it, had he been able. But the wound of losing Jane was still fresh and this only opened it wider, until all there was left was fury and hurt.

There were none to soothe Thor's temper, for his father was nearly exhausted from the fight with Thanos and barely holding off the Odinsleep and his mother was in mourning and his mortal friends were far from him and his Aesir friends did not know what to say no matter how they tried and his brother was dead.

This could not stand, they had all suffered too greatly and Thor would not let this break them further, for they were far too fractured already. He knew well that the dead were meant to stay dead, that this was a tenable fact of the universe, but Loki had always been an exception to every rule and the thought of leaving him to his fate was one that Thor could not allow.

That terrible afternoon in the clearing, he'd turned to his father to see if he yet held Loki's soul, for he had died in battle and surely would be escorted to Valhalla. In one brief, wild moment, Thor had thought that perhaps that was the Norn's way of being kind, that they would gift Loki with the path to the golden halls of those fallen in battle, so that one day Thor could join him there for the eternal afterlife.

But the wide, confused look in his father's eye and the desperate search around the clearing and what was left of the forest still standing beyond had told Thor everything--Loki's soul was not for his father to find. And Thor's rage would not quiet after that, that his brother would be denied to him for the rest of eternity, lost to them in so cruel a way.

And thus, he had decided one afternoon while he watched his family drift further apart, his father worn thin on Asgard's throne and his mother grieving over her lost child, that Thor would simply retrieve his brother's soul from Hel.

*

"It cannot be done," his father said, seated upon the high golden Hlidskjalf, visibly tired beyond what Thor could ever remember seeing him. The weeks had not been kind to the Allfather, who had exhausted much of himself in both the final repairs of the Bifrost and in the fight against Thanos on Midgard and simply the turmoil of his family nearly entirely rended asunder. The lines of his face were deeper and his skin more like leather than it had ever been, the spark to his eye dull and his back stooped whenever the room was emptied of his subjects.

Thor's fists curled at his sides, as if he could pull the rage and furor back with his bare hands, and he forced himself to stand still before the throne of Asgard, no longer a boy who would overturn tables or heave Mjolnir about to make his point. "I do not know all that Loki suffered or did not suffer at the hands of Thanos, for there was too little time to unearth those mysteries. But I do know that I have lost him thrice now and I will not stand for it any longer."

His voice wavered, anger singing underneath it and Mjolnir pulled at him, wanting to be in his hand and to smash through all that would stand in his way, for that was their combined method, was it not? And yet Thor held still again. "I did nothing when he was lost into the void and I did not do enough to uncover the truth of him when he was on Midgard. I brought him home where, again I did nothing when he was in the bowels of Asgard's dungeons. I did _nothing_ when we cast him out, no matter that I understand the reasons for it and am glad that it prompted him to action. But it was through his own means, with no help from Asgard or his family, that he put his plan into action and brought down the Titan that twisted him into the one who was far from us."

Thor could see his father stoop lower, that this was a quest like fighting a raging river with only a single paddle, but he would not give up, would not be interrupted. "And now we have lost him once more and you would have me do nothing yet again? No, I will not stand by and do _nothing_ like I have learned naught all! I will not leave him to this fate, to have him think we would _still_ so easily abandon him!"

One hand held up, Odin looked even more impossibly tired, his frame barely even seeming to hold up the armor he wore. "You are old enough and wise enough to reason out why it cannot be done, Thor. Especially not when I am in need of rest very soon, I cannot hold off the Odinsleep for more than a day or two at most. Asgard will have need of you, while your mother mourns and I sleep."

And then he would hear no more.

*

More rage consumed Thor as he stormed down the hallways of the Allfather's great tower, no matter that he could not deny his father's logic. Again, he wished that Loki were here, to offer council or another option, any sort of clever way around this problem, for Thor himself could not see it. Asgard could not be left without a strong hand to rule it and his parents were in need of time to recover now. In another time, an advisor would be permitted to sit on her throne, so long as it was only a brief time, but Asgard was not as stable as she should be, and Thor well knew that, too.

So, he banked the fires of his anger, covering it with the cinders of duty and necessity, but letting it continue to burn low and constant. He stalked his way to the room of the dead that they had placed Loki's body in, the space empty but for the carvings on the walls, the runes of protection and safey journey, and the wide metal altar at the center of the room. The only thing out of place was the small settee pulled near to the altar, the cream color and wood of it clashing against the dark golds everywhere else.

His mother sat on the settee, her eyes dull but open, as she stared at the lifeless body on the altar, one of his hands seeming to reach for the edge of it, where she had clearly pulled it. It was truly as if he was only sleeping, for Loki's skin was still soft and the fire seemed to give it a healthy glow, his lashes gentle against the smoothness of his cheeks, and the only thing missing was the rise and fall of his chest.

Thor settled himself next to his mother and tried to let the anger flow out of him, as she could not be the one to draw it out, for she had little enough to give any longer, not after she had wept for what seemed like days when she had been returned to them and learned of Loki's bargain. But she did let Thor take her hand, so small and delicate next to his, and she wrapped her fingers lightly around his.

"Mother," he greeted her softly, gladened that she squeezed his hand, if faintly. Yet, she did not turn her eyes from Loki's body. "Soon Father will enter the Odinsleep and I will rule Asgard in his stead. And then...."

He had considered telling her of his wishes, that when his father had denied him he had had the urge to run to his mother and gain her approval instead, for certainly would she not wish to have her darling second son back? But Thor could not tell her, for it was a terrible burden to place on her, a choice that he could not ask her to make nor be responsible for.

Instead, she turned towards him when he trailed off, her fingers again closing around his in what comfort she could offer. Her eyes were even duller than Odin's and Thor wondered if his own were similar, if they had faded to gray or if they were blazing brighter than ever, for certainly he felt as if he wanted to tear all the Nine apart most days in a fiery rage.

Frigga pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, as if she had only now become aware of it, the gold of it drab and unremarkable now, tangled at the ends instead of the usual perfect curls. "Do not worry, my darling," she said and though her smile was not the radiant thing it should be, it was at least genuine. "You have come so far, you will make a fine king while your father slumbers. Your father trusts in you, as do I."

But his brother was not here to see it, nor here to give him advice when he needed it.

Was not even here to keep Thor from doing something monumentally stupid that might well cost him his life or more.

*

The moment his father woke from his sleep once more, Thor's thoughts were filled with the plans he'd been carefully mulling over for the entire seven days he'd been tasked with guarding their home. He had more tact and grace than to blurt them out as soon as the Allfather had stepped from his bed or even once he'd summoned his armor, Gungnir settling easily back into his hand.

But the moment he sat on Hlidskjalf, Thor's hand tightened around Mjolnir's shaft and he faced his father squarely as he stood only a few steps down from the dias. "I am going to Niflheim to retrieve him," Thor said and was quietly startled to realize that he did not fear whatever his father would say. It did not matter if he would choose to forsake Loki in this or if he would help Thor in his quest. Thor would go all the same.

Yet Odin merely looked back at him, giving nothing away in his wizened old eye, his stare simply measuring for several long moments. "You have the determination to face this then? The dead are not so easily brought back, this is not a youthful jaunt for adventure. You seek to overturn one of the very tenets of the greater universe."

Thor nodded sharply, only the once, gladdened that their father would not stand in his way yet it had not truly strengthened his decision to go any more than it had hindered it. And suddenly Thor understood why his father had placed so many obstacles before him. Only in the letting go of his rage, replacing it with hardened determination, did Thor cool enough to see that storming the gates of Hel would have gotten him nothing of his goals and that his father had seen that long ago.

It gave him yet further hope that he might yet succeed, despite that he would go whether or not he would ultimately prise his brother from Hel's grip. It gave him hope that he could bring this to Loki, to show him that his place was in his _home_ , that his family _all_ waited for him, that his brother waited to fight side by side once more, that his mother wept for her lost son and would hold him in her arms again when he returned, that his father was indeed his father and would hold out his hand should Loki grasp it. It would be no matter that Loki had forsaken them, they would still have him return _home_.

Or perhaps not forsaken them, not truly. There had not been enough time for Thor to parse the lies and misdirections to find the truth of his brother in the brief time they had on Midgard before Loki had been stolen away.

But now Thor would make the time for it, he would reforge the bonds between them once Loki was home, even should he have to move entire Realms with only his own hands and Mjolnir's strength to do it.

For Loki, for Asgard's lost son who should not be lost at all, Thor could do this.

*

It was no easy thing to journey to the land of the dead, even aside from the difficult task of prying a soul away from Hela's hands or finding a prize worthy of her attentions. The Bifrost could have deposited him in Niflheim, but he knew not where the Helgate was and not even the Realm Eternal's power could breach Hela's walls, for some things should be beyond even the gods so that order would be kept in the Nine.

Instead, Thor had asked to be desposited on the less cold wastes of Jotunheim, still frozen and icy but at least it was a realm of the living. He had traveled here only once with Loki, the way still unfamiliar to him, but the Iron Woods had its little spies in every corner, from birds to small rodents that scurried across the snow drifts as if they were lighter than a feather, not even a hint of a track in their wake. Thor did not have to travel deep into the woods before the light snowfall parted to allow a figure to step between the curtains of endless white falling from the sky.

"Should I welcome you to my woods, son of thunder?" asked the witch who had made this place her home. Thor had only been to this part of Jotunheim once before, when he'd been restless enough to make the journey with Loki to visit the strange Angrboda, a fellow sorcerer that Loki had needed dealings with.

She remained as she was in Thor's faint memories--perhaps taller than an Aesir, but not by much, an ice maiden whose blue skin seemed almost soft compared to the Frost Giants that were more familar to him, the spiralling lines swirling delicately across her bared shoulders and arms but never touching her face, the sculpt of the ice on her head as if she had frozen hair to be pushed back--and the smile upon her lips was the sly one that every sorcerer seemed to have mastered.

"Or should I cast you out before you have the time to bring trouble to me?" Her voice had the ringing undertone of all Jotnar, like the deep scrape of heavy ice against stone, but it too was softer than most things that could be found in this realm. Thor did not let it fool him, the tilt of her lips may have been inviting and soft, but it was as sly and twisting as Loki's had ever been.

It made the ache in his chest worse, to see another that so reminded him of the brother he'd used to have. The brother he hoped to one day bring back again.

"I bring no trouble to your home," Thor answered her seriously. "Any trouble that I may find will follow me far away from this place, so you need not worry."

Her laughter was high-pitched and clear, not loud and yet it carried through the trees as if they were part of her. Perhaps they were. "You would only come to the distant land of Jarnvidr should you seek something terrible and if your brother could not achieve it himself. Either he has the sense to avoid it--and I should likely do the same--or he is the one you do it in the service of. Which means I could charge quite an absorbant amount, as it likely is no easy thing you will ask of me."

Thor gripped Mjolnir tightly as the snow swirled all the heavier around them and knew that it was not her doing that called it down upon them. Angrboda glanced up at the sky between the snow-covered trees of her woods and her smile turned slyer yet, to see such clear evidence of his temper, but it was not as if Thor had no practice in the art of avoiding those who would use his moods against him. He had grown alongside Loki and there were none that would strike a harder bargain than his brother.

"You will ask a fair price in return for your efforts," Thor said and it was little effort to keep his gaze level with hers. "I ask for a guide on the paths between the worlds, so that you would show me the way to the entrance of Gnipahellir. You need not go further than that, once it is within sight, your part will be done."

If she had had eyebrows to be raised, Thor was sure that she would have done so, along with how her mouth parted to respond and hung that way, nothing coming to her lips for a long moment. "You have always been reckless, young storm godling, but even you would not charge headlong into the depths of Hel just to throw away your life!"

The snow still fell around them in great swirls of white, only Thor forcing his temper back kept them from a blizzard. It was not as if Angrboda would mind, she was of Jotunheim's cold just as much as any other Frost Giant, no matter that she was otherwise so different from them, but Thor did not wish to lose sight of her. There was no fear that she would attack him--and it would not matter if she did, only that she would be more difficult to bargain with then--but he did not care for her to lose sight of him, either, so that she would not see the unyielding planes of his face to know that he could not be moved from this path.

"I do not throw my life away, nor do I do this recklessly. I admit to much folly in my past, but even were this a wasted cause, your bargain would still hold. Name your price and let us be on with it, witch."

She studied him for a long moment before her mouth curled upwards once more, but it was not the same thing it had been previously, there was no conviction in this. It was merely habit. "You would only walk this path for a very few," she said softly and perhaps it was not his imagining that her eyes had lost much of their hardness. "And for the one you seek, I will agree to a fair price, for I would have that one returned to our worlds. Few things were quite so interesting as the mischief he stirred up."

Thor did not pretend to understand her reasoning, for Loki had attacked her home just as much as the rest of the Jotnar, and yet she seemed still fond of him. He did not know if it was simply that they were alike in the twisting, unfathomable ways they found the worst of things amusing or if it was another thing all sorcerers shared.

It did not matter so long as she named her price.

"There is a large beast to the south of these woods, three hours' walk for an Aesir," she said finally, her hand a vague wave behind where Thor still stood. "Kill it and bring me the skin and three of its teeth."

And with that she stepped back into the snow, a soft crunch beneath her feet once, before she was gone in a swirl of white.

*

The walk was not difficult nor was it long before Thor saw the signs of rampage of a large animal that savaged everything in its path. There was little that grew on its own in Jotunheim, but Angrboda's woods sprawled far and wide, until the edge of the forest gave way to ruined and torn trees, underbrush that had long been ripped away from the ground and shriveled to iced over death as it was trampled under massive feet. The last third of his walk was through this devestation and it was easy to see why Angrboda wanted such a creature away from her woods, for there would not be much of anything left were it to continue unchecked.

The damage did not follow a single path nor stay concentrated in one area, but it was still not difficult to travel in the same direction, for Sol still shone distantly here and guided his way. She seemed to struggle, especially when his thoughts turned to Loki and how far Thor still was from him, the white flurries nearly esclipsing the light, but her light was eternal and she still broke through even Thor's temper.

Thankfully, he did not have long to be lost in his thoughts, where there was only the effort of putting one foot in front of the other to be offered as a paltry distraction, for Angrboda's great beast soon came into view. It was similar to the previous one that Thor had fought the last time he had come to this desolate, wretched place, when he had still had Loki at his side and they had fought the mamoth creature that Laufey had summoned. But it was not quite the same, for where that one had been a dark gray with leathery skin to hide it in the night, this one was as purely white as the driven snow around it, the fur on its back thick and tangled. A snow beast to that one's frost beast.

Thor wasted no time as it spotted him in return soon after he had sighted it first, a great screeching roar to the sky as it screamed for battle. Thor would not disappoint it.

He hurled Mjolnir at one of its long tusks, chipping the end of it off and leaving the remainder jagged but no longer easy to gore its prey with. The beast roared again and swiped one massive clawed foot at Mjolnir who flew back to Thor's hand, missing the hammer by only a few handspans, its eyes tracking the path right back to her weilder. Thor threw Mjolnir once more, daring the beast to charge at him, knowing well that it would do so in a blind rage, and he could clip the other tusk just as easily.

On its way towards him, the impact of Thor's hammer made it stumble and it nearly fell into the snow at its feet before righting itself, galloping forward again. It was simple to call Mjolnir back to his hand and swing her at the beast's face as soon as it was within reach, but it was not nearly as easy to make it stumble again. Even with all of Thor's strength, the beast barely seemed to falter at first, until he brought the hammer down directly on its large nose, hearing the protective bone crack beneath her uru head.

The beast reared back with a howl of pain, its great white tail lashing forward so that the barbed end struck Thor in the side, making him sail to the right and spraying snow in all directions from the impact with a large drift. All other thoughts in his head seemed to disappear at the pain, as if they had been burned away in a great strike of lightning, until all that was left was the sheer _joy_ of something very large to hit and the glory of battle. He had not realize how much he missed it, for the last fight he had found himself in was a poor substitude for the true greatness to be found against such a worthy foe.

Thor would bring it down with relish, he would crack each of its bones with his hammer, he would crush its skull beneath his fist, he would rip its hide from the muscle beneath it, he would cook the meat over a roaring bonfire and eat until he was sated, and would leave the ribcage as a monument to the glorious defeat of it!

Lightning lit the sky above him, thunder rumbling quickly after it, overjoyed to see him in his element again, answering his call as he swung Mjolnir yet again. She crashed into the jaw of the great beast, just between what was left of its two ruined tusks, forcing the head to rear back again and howl with pain. The sound of it reverberated through Thor's veins and made the lightning in him crackle with greater intensity, so great was his joy in this fight. Yet he did not stop to revel in it, for Mjolnir called for still more of this beast's flesh, and so Thor sent her to meet it again and again, crashing against its thickly muscled sides until skin rent open and blood dripped down from long, jagged gashes, and bruises littered the few spots that were not covered in white fur.

Each time, it howled anew and Thor let the sound of the dying sink into his bones as well, made it part of him and fed himself with it, until the beast gave one more great snarl and snapped its massive jaws at him, feral with pain and death fogging its eyes. His own face was fearsome, he knew, for Thor was smiling and he laughed as the sharp teeth tried to close over him, his hands wrapping around the protruding canines to stop them.

"Well met, foul beast," he said and meant it truly, before he called the lightning to him once more. Mjolnir was set at his feet and singing her song, while his hands stayed curled around the teeth that were nearly as big as his own head, and he poured every bit of his favorite element into the wide maw before him.

Electricity burnt its way through the beast from the inside out, lighting it up until its organs and muscles were sizzling and seared beyond the survival of it, its voice no longer able to roar but only a high, thin whine that lasted but moments before its death. Thor felt every twitch and spasm of its death as lightning crawled through its veins, his senses extending with the reach of it, and it was a joy unlike he'd had in years, over all too soon.

Afterwards, the beast dropped with a great crash, the snow flying in all directions as it impacted with the ground.

It had been a worthy foe and Thor was only sorry that it could not be raised to battle once more.

*

It took time before Thor's berserker rage cooled enough that he could begin the slow process of skinning the great beast and breaking off three of its teeth. He also broke off part of the tusks, cracked into several parts so that he might offer some to Angrboda and then keep some for Loki. Despite that he did not know whether there was any spell or potion that would use them, it seemed a fitting gift all the same.

Once this was done, he left the meat for whatever scavengers might find use of it, cutting away only enough that he would need for the next meal that evening, even though the beast was large enough to feed an entire battalion of Einherjar should he have made use of it all. The return walk was just as long, but his thoughts were quieter, the battle having bled most of them away for now, the simple peace in his own mind a welcome relief.

Thor was gladdened by his own new hard won thoughtfulness, he was reassured by his growing ability to think and reason a problem through, but it was not his natural inclination and so he embraced the quieting of his thoughts for these long moments.

It was not difficult to find Angrboda again, the black birds pointed the way for him by perching in the high branches of the trees in the direction he was meant to go. He did not find her home, he knew she would never allow him passage there, but she waited for him in a clearing on the leeward side of a small hill, out of the icy winds of Jotunheim.

The fire that burned in the heart of it was a surprise, though, for he knew that she did not need the heat of it and did not think she would be so accomodating for him. But when he dropped the massive pile of fur at her feet, Angrboda's lips twisting slightly at the mess of it, he understood as soon as she began to cut large swaths of it away and pulled two handfuls of salt out of thin air. Sol had nearly reached the end of her day's journey and there was too little light to work by without the firelight as Angrboda cut away the excess fat and gore from the pelt, salting the Aesir-sized lengths of it when they were to her satisfaction.

What should have taken at least hours, if not days, to do properly seemed to flourish under Angrboda's touch and was finished by the time Thor had cooked his dinner over the fire and used it to warm himself. Then the witch's slender fingers--the only thing to watch in this darkening and dimming place, so Thor did not bother to avert his gaze from her work, so much quicker and more deft than he expected of a Jotunn's fingers, which made him think of Loki's clever hands, if they would be just as agile and like birds fluttering their wings in his Jotunn form--began to wind needle and thread through the edges of them.

It was not long before they took shape under her hands, two thick white cloaks that would wrap entirely around an Aesir--or a small Jotunn--forming out of what had once been a great snow beast of Jotunheim. Thor gave brief thought to demanding a third, that Loki would need one for the return trip, but dismissed it just as quickly. Loki had little reason to fear the cold any longer and his body would not be in Hel to feel it anyway.

"This is your trade for slaying that creature," Angrboda said and tossed one of the cloaks at him. Thor did not bother to ask why she made the other, for she had little need of protection from the cold, either, but her efforts were here own. "You will need it to protect you from the colds of Niflheim."

As he turned it over in his hands, the tanning and sewing having been skillfully done, Thor thought it would make a fine winter coat even after this long journey was done. There were runes stitched into the collar of it, which he could not read as easily as he knew Loki would be able to, but he recognized enough of them to know they were simple warming charms. Wrapping it around himself, he reached into the satchel at his side and tossed her the three teeth and bit of tusk he'd gathered.

"And this will be payment for the journey between the worlds."

She looked sharply down at the piece of tusk in her hand, having already disappeared the teeth into her magic space, and seemed to be considering whether or not to throw it back. "I did not ask for this, nor do I accept gifts, for they come with hidden costs."

Thor shrugged and pulled the collar of his new cloak tighter around him. "Then toss it away, for I have no use for it or any hidden costs to attach to it. You know of me well enough to know that is true, so I care not what you do with it."

He did not wait to see her decision before he propped himself up against the side of the hill, near enough to the fire to still feel it, but not so close now that the coat warmed him instead, and closed his eyes for a night's rest before their journey in the morning.

*

By morning, Sol had peered her way out between Jotunheim's dark clouds once more, and it was enough to rouse Thor from his light sleep. He had not feared Angrboda's presence in the night, for he had seen the way her wary eyes lingered on Mjolnir, still covered in bits of bone and gore from the beast before Thor had cleaned her. She had feared him in those moments and Thor had not dissuaded her.

When he woke, the rest of the pelt was gone, whether she'd dragged it away or magicked it away, he did not know, but it was hers to do with as she pleased. She sat across from him, the last of the dying fire between them, and her own cloak draped over her legs as she watched the horizon. There was nothing there to see, but Thor knew that mages did not always look with only the eyesight that was common to them both, so he did not interrupt her, but instead stretched his stiff muscles that were now beginning to complain after yesterday's great battle.

Briefly, he considered breaking his fast before they set out, for he thought that she would wait for him if he chose it, but quickly decided that he did not wish to waste any more time here. There was nothing in Jotunheim that he needed any longer, it had already given him everything it could.

Angrboda stood with him, wrapping the cloak around her shoulders as he turned to face her. "Then let us strike the next part of our bargain," he said to her and she held out one dusky blue hand to him, the other clawing at the air, as if pulling back an invisible curtain.

Thor grasped her hand and stepped forward with her, the snowy expanse of Jarnvidr disappearing instantly to be replaced by a night sky with a thousand stars littering it that he did not recognize.

"Do not stray from the path," Angrboda warned lowly, her voice soft here and her glance almost a furtive thing. "Keep your focus on the way in front of you, let the tred of your feet be the most important thing in your mind."

"Aye, I know the dangers of the paths between the worlds. Lead us on carefully then, witch."

*

Despite warnings and half-thought expectations, the dark path was quiet and uneventful. Thor did not know if this pleased him or not, for he knew the journey was still long yet, but he itched to throw Mjolnir at another problem standing in his way, when it had felt like such progress the day before. It had been a familiar comfort to battle something immediately before him, to knock it down into the dirt and snow, knowing that it brought him one step closer to reclaiming Loki.

But soon enough Angrboda reached for his hand again, the two of them never more than the span of the length of a single Aesir apart from each other, and curled her fingers into the air before her, an invisible veil parting to show more snowy expanses beyond it. There was another shiver down their spines as they stepped through the fissure, gone as quickly as it had been felt, and then a heavy, deep cold rolled over the both of them.

This was unlike Jotunheim's cold, even through the cloak it could be felt leeching away the warmth in his bones, a true primal force that could not be entirely combatted with anything that was not of its own realm. Angrboda seemed to shiver in it as well, which surprised Thor as he thought that any descendent of Ymir would take to the cold here as well as they did in Jotunheim. But she forged on, even quieter now, but still just as surely.

The landscape was made mostly of jagged, craggy mountains in the distance, the long overflow of rocks down length of them as if they'd been spilled down the sides long ago, and it was slow work to make their way over the constant trails of them. It was even more difficult to see, the further they ventured into Niflheim's depths, further than Thor had ever gone on his trip with Loki here, for soon a fine mist began to creep over the snow and rocks, twining around their ankles and whisping up against their calves.

It nearly hid their first great landmark until they stumbled over the edge of it, the rocky ground beneath their feet suddenly giving way to the bubbling, boiling spring of Hvergelmir that could be heard clearly only once they stood at the very side of it. Its waters were so blue that Thor could nearly feel the cold of it just from looking at it, the fount of water it sprayed up icy white and sapphire. It was beautiful to behold, the source of all the cold rivers in the realms, and just as deadly as it was lovely.

The streams sprawled in all directions, each of the Elivagar rushing in a great torrent away from it and growing ever wider as they flowed away, where he could have followed them all the way to Ginnungagap and the great emptiness between the realms. Perhaps he would understand something of what Loki had seen, should he have done so, to know something so much larger than even themselves or the worlds they knew.

But then Angrboda was tugging on his arm to call his attention to the other side of the great spring, a massive coiled beast lounging on the opposite shore.

"It is Nidhoggr," she whispered quietly, as if he would not recognize the vile creature before him. It chewed on the corpse of something--whether man or god or beast, Thor did not know--and dipped its massive tail into the poisonous waters of Gjoll like a lindworm sunning itself on the shores of Alfheim. It had not noticed them, continuing to claw through the pile of limbs and bones at its giant feet to pick out the one that caught its interest before sinking its long teeth it and pulling it into the hungry, razor sharp mouth.

"We must cross Nastrond and follow the length of Gjoll to reach the Helgate," Angrboda continued, nervously stepping back until she was well behind him. He wondered if she would turn from here and flee, breaking her oath to their bargain and winding up here when she was dead anyway. Though, it may not have mattered to him, for Thor thought that he could perhaps find his way from here, the hardest part of opening the paths between the worlds already done.

"I will slay this foul beast once and for all then," he answered, his blood already calling for the death of the greatest of dragons known in all the Nine.

He would take this thing's head and present it first to Loki, to show the lengths he would go to for this brother, to show him that there was nothing that could stand between Thor and the one he would always come for. Then he would drag it home to the halls of Bilskirnir, so that all would know that Thor, son of Odin, god of Thunder, had slayed the mightiest of all!

Mjolnir sang sweetly at his side, just as eager to join the battle as he, and Thor had nearly launched her and flown with her across the waters of Hvergelmir when Angrboda darted forward to grasp at his arm again and hissed, "Even your strength cannot beat the beast that chews on the roots of Yggradsil itself!"

Thor did not turn his gaze from the dragon that still feasted on its pile of corpses, its long snout snuffling through them to find the ripest of its hoard, steam curling up from the large nostrils. "You would question the strength of my arm or the impact of Mjolnir!" he started, as she curled around his side to look upon him straight on.

Only when he saw the desperate exasperation there did Thor finally pause, not for her sake or anything she had done to reach through the bloodlust that still called to him, stronger now that it had been well fed the previous day and rewarded for its use. But instead that she reminded him, in that moment, so strongly of Loki that Thor finally tore his sight from the dragon across the poisonous waters and looked truly at the witch. It was only for Loki's sake and the lessons that Thor had well learned that he stayed his hand and guilt crept in again, that he would be so easily riled and his temper still ruled him so fiercely. All that he had done to bank that fire into something stronger and wiser, yet he still fell back on the same impulses time and again.

And thus he needed Loki to remind him, for only a memory of his brother was not nearly enough.

Thor knew that was selfish of him, to want his brother back for reasons of his own, but he soothed that concern with the knowledge that he also journeyed here for reasons that were good, reasons that were for Loki this time.

Relief crossed Angrboda's face as Mjolnir's hum softened, both weapon and wielder stepping back to consider their position more carefully.

"Very well," he said. "But we must go that way and Nidhoggr is no friend to the living, eventually Mjolnir must meet its hide."

Angrboda nodded as well, her cloak drawn tightly around her and her gaze turning to something slyer and more cunning as she beheld the giant serpent. "We have no need of anything Nidhoggr clutches tightly to it," she answered slowly. "To battle it to the death would only delay us with no gain."

He knew that she spoke these words only to soothe his temper, so that he would agree to her method and not battle until one or both of himself and the giant dragon could not longer rise, for she did not believe that he could best this foe. Such thoughts rankled more than he would have liked, but Thor let them pass, for he had nearly let the greater good slip away from him once today, he would not do so again.

As well as her reasoning was true, for Thor did not wish to delay more than was necessary.

Silence lay between them as they looked on the enormous obstacle placed before them, Nidhogger's long coils as thick as they each were tall, the front fangs in its mouth perhaps another handspan longer than that. It was difficult to tell how far the serpent would stretch from one end to the next if pulled straight, but Thor guessed it was likely at least a hundred times his own height, and each time Nidhoggr breathed he could see the scales as big as his head shimmer in the dim light of Niflheim. The enormous tail still splashed in the shimmering waters of Hvergelmir playfully, like it was nothing more than a giant snake sunning itself on a pleasant afternoon, only the vicious way it crunched through bone and sinew of the corpses disturbing the image.

One foreleg dug through the pile again as soon as the previous bit was chewed through, a few broken arms clattering down the side and spilling into the roiling spring waters. They plopped onto the surface with a hiss and bubbling, as they broke apart and sizzled away like they had been dipped in the most potent of acids.

"I shall sail us over its head," Thor decided at last. "It may stretch to a great height and may be a match for the combined strength of my hand and Mjolnir's unyielding weight, but I can still reach even higher than its length would allow."

If he had not been watching her face, Thor would not have caught the gleam in Angrboda's eye, one that he was well familiar with. "You have hidden plans, witch. Out with them and we will see how much true merit they have."

Startled, Angrboda blinked at him quickly before she could smooth her face back down into placid control. "Perhaps you do not even need your brother returned to you then," she answered with an upward tilt of her mouth. "If you have inherited his cleverness and insight, then you have struck your own balance without him."

Thor gripped her arm tightly, uncaring at the wince she let slip through. "My reasons for this journey do not concern you, witch. Only your part of the bargain and I will not have you sabotaging our efforts midway."

Her expression stayed distant, but Thor could see the flickering of wariness in her eyes. Good, let her fear his temper and his newfound insight into others.

"I would not do something so terrible, I swear." Thor did not comment that perhaps her oaths were not as trustworthy as she would have him believe, for he had no proof yet, only suspicions and half-told stories of Loki's that were further muddied by hazy memory. "It is simply that we must pass Nidhoggr as it is, yet claim one small prize from it. And it is nothing so great that it would guard it with its life."

"Your stalling does you no favors, witch."

Finally her mask fell away enough to show the annoyance underneath, Angrboda's lips twisting sharply. "A talon from one of its claws, you will need it when you face the Helhound."

That made little sense to Thor, who knew of what he would face and Garmr had no stories told of weaknesses to a dragon's claw, whether from the greatest one of them or the least of them. And he would have argued, for he had less patience than ever for her trickery and deceit, but they had been noticed.

All around them, souls of the dead milled about, murderers and oathbreakers who were thrown to the wilds of Nastrond, so that they would spend their afterlives fleeing from Nidhoggr's desire for them or perish between the massive jaws of the eternally hungry beast. Such souls had little honor in life and even less in the aftermath of death, so they stumbled towards anything living that tresspassed through their forsaken land, drawing a darker attention to anything but themselves, perhaps by intent or perhaps only by instinct.

Several had drifted towards them now, milling around the two warm bodies that had infiltrated their wretched home, crossing their paths but never touching, nor looking directly at them. The dead would not recognize them, not with no connection between them, so there was little direct animosity, but the result was still the same. Nidhoggr lifted its giant snout from the dead flesh and bones it feasted on, sniffing the air until it spotted them, its eyes aflame with evil intent.

There was little enough time to react, so Thor did not bother with thought when his instincts served him far better. He grabbed Angrboda to him, her hands grasping tightly in the heavy fur of his cloak, while Mjolnir spun at his side with greater and greater speed. At the first sign that Nidhoggr began to slither towards them, Thor released Mjolnir at the height of her spin, his hand still tangled in her strap so that he and Angrboda flew high with her.

His aim was true, taking them in a great arc over the head of the Niflheim serpent, high enough that they avoided the great lunge it struck at them, the jaws nowhere close enough to their path be a danger. They landed far on the other side of Hvergelmir and Thor sent Angrboda tumbling into a deep snow drift to cushion her fall, even as he crashed down against the rocky ground himself, the impact cratering it nearly halfway up his calves. He spun quickly, knowing that Nidhoggr's speed would bring it upon them in an instant too soon if he were not ready, letting Mjolnir take up her song at his side once more.

The great beast did indeed slither towards them, the giant tail still steaming behind it and its breath a small cloud of warm air as it screeched loudly enough that even the dead turned to stare, roused from their stupor. No sooner had Thor turned to face it than he let Mjolnir go, her eagerness to meet this foe's face was that which he would no longer deny.

She cracked loudly against one fang of its open mouth, chipping the end and forcing the beast to recoil so that it stopped its pursuit long enough to shriek in an even greater rage. Mjolnir flew back to Thor, ready to fly again, and so he let her, this time aiming for one great golden eye, his aim as true as it ever was. Now, Nidhoggr screamed so loudly that its breath was a fine mist that sizzled anything it touched, the poison that it drank to slake its thirst after a meal of dead flesh corroding all that it could reach.

But it was not as if Thor had never felled a giant foe before, even should this one be bigger than all those who came before it. Mjolnir once more in his hand, Thor used her to spin above his head so that he could call the winds to him, bringing rocks and snow with them as they churned ever more violently around him. Soon there was a terrible hurricane that lifted him high into the sky, Mjolnir's wrath combining with his own that had been far too long restrained and was now broken free, the storms eager to come when their master called.

It put him at a height that was even with Nidhoggr, the serpent's tail lashing through Thor's winds as if they were hardly there, enough that he would have fallen from the skies were they not replaced as soon as Nidhoggr could disrupt them. Yet it was not the winds that would deal the damage he wished, but the jagged rocks and torn pieces of boulder which had sharpened ends like daggers that he funneled towards the beast's side. It was enough to knock Nidhoggr back, though none pierced enough to draw so much as a trickle of blood.

Still, there was another great scream that shook the landscape around them and Nidhoggr charged again, easily cutting through Thor's winds until there was only one last held back piece of rock, heavier and sharper than the rest, saved because it would take all his focus to wield it alone, and he flung it at the giant serpent, striking dead center of one claw. Nidhoggr crashed to the ground with the rock embedded in its foreleg, hitting so hard that it tore right through the skin and pierced out the other side, digging into the dirt below. As Thor plummeted down to land on top of the rock, burying it hard enough into the ground beneath that the serpent could not pull it back out, he was knocked aside by wild thrashing of Nidhoggr's head as it tried to free its foot.

Thor flew backwards, unable to stop his own flight until a mountain at his back did it for him, more gravel and large chunks of rock raining down around him. Everything in him hurt, for the bone of the serpent's skull was harder than anything save Mjolnir's uru head and the mountains behind him were only so forgiving. But it was not yet time to stop. So Thor sent Mjolnir sailing towards the beast again, trailing along in her tremendous wake, until he knocked straight into Nidhogger's jaw, thankful that at least something cracked under the impact.

Yet still Nidhoggr did not die down, instead thrashing all the more wildly, forcing Thor to retreat out of its reach, unable to reach the trapped claw that he needed. With another call to the elements, this time to bring the lightning down, Thor wrapped himself up in it and let the power of the storm feed him. He let it course through his veins, let it take him over and remind him that he was the god of thunder and lightning, that he was their favorite son, and that this great beast from the beginning of time would find no easy foe, for Thor was still a master of an element that was even older and more primal!

Mjolnir cried for release and Thor gave it to her, letting her keep much of the lightning as he hurled her straight into the maw of Nidhoggr. She flew down the throat that was more that wide enough to swallow him whole, crackling loudly her entire way. While she was occupied, Thor stormed forward to grab at one of the beast's still spasming claws, the midnight black nail as big as he was, and only then did he call his hammer back to himself.

The great beast coughed and splattered a thin trail of blood, one that would have been enough to shower Thor in it had he been in its path, yet only a minor wound to Nidhoggr, and Thor knew his time was not long. He did not bask in this victory, for it was not a true victory, and only for Loki's sake would he let this one go. Only for his beloved brother's sake and Thor's responsibility to find the truth of what had happened to him, to find his lost brother in the darkness and death, because he had failed so many times to do it before now, only these things kept Thor from letting the berserker rage consume him again.

He brought Mjolnir down in a shattering crack to Nidhoggr's claw, the black talon splintering and chipping away at the end. It was nearly as wide as Thor's arm, yet it only took twice to bring his hammer's weight down on the nail before enough broke off that Thor could rip it clear, his prize won just in time for Nidhoggr to thrash hard enough that the rock embedded into the dirt finally came loose. Nidhoggr reared back, nearly to its full height and screamed so loudly to the sky that the earth trembled beneath them and Thor's blood demanded that he stay to finish this fight! It screamed to not rest until the serpent's head was torn clean from its body so that he might drag it behind him back to Asgard, to display it in the great room of his hall, for all to see that Thor, God of Thunder, had defeated Niflheim's greatest beast!

Which he may well have done, had Angrboda's reflection not shimmered into being at his side, the light of her not quite right and Thor recognizing her as a mere projection rather than true form. "Hurry, we must go now!" she called and wavered once more, until Nidhoggr's free claw swiped through her, dispelling the magic.

"We will finish this one day," Thor promised the roaring serpent, as he turned away in one of the most difficult parts of his journey yet.

It was not that he did not understand the importance of it, but this was no innocent caught in a war not of their making, who had harmed none before their arrival. There were no political repurcussions from destroying a beast whose only purpose was to feast on the dead and to create more dead in their place whenever it had the chance.

But still Thor turned from Nidhoggr, Mjolnir spinning at his side to fly him from this spot, swooping down to grab hold of Angrboda's arm as she reached for him. They traveled down the shores of Gjoll even faster than the great serpent of Niflheim could move, so it was soon enough that its roars were a distant sound to their ears, dying away entirely when it realized that it could not chase them and would rather lick its minor wounds.

*

Thor did not speak of the battle afterwards, too dissatisfied at the conclusion of it to wish to retell it or even simply have the subject broached, while Angrboda cast a handful of furtive glances at him and kept her silence as well. Their travel was slow, only the light crunch of snow under their boots to pass the time, his tread far heavier than hers, and he briefly wondered if she would make any sound at all were she alone.

It felt as if her movements were for his benefit, that the further they traveled, the more her attention became focused on him rather than the journey they made. Every time her gaze slid towards him, even when she was at his back, Thor felt the sharpness of it, the coiled and hiding ambition that she would not yet release, biding her time.

"Out with it, witch," Thor eventually said, when they had walked far enough that even his feet began to protest, despite that Sol had moved little from her perch in the sky, as if her chase was suspended in motion from this vantage point. He knew it was simply that they were further from her, that the days in Niflheim did not pass as they did in the other realms, so that she could not be used to keep the time as he normally would. And yet his instincts still turned to her for guidance in this place where so little else was familiar. "There is a long walk still in front of us and I will not make it with you plotting at my back."

Expressions were difficult to parse on Angrboda's blue face, the skin thicker than an Aesir's and much subtlety was lost on it. But her laughter was far easier to understand and the way her mouth curved up was even more familiar. "Ah, son of thunder, you surprise me again. My apologies for the distraction then."

She sketched a mocking bow and Thor's heart ached for it, that he could so clearly see the lines of Loki's figure over hers, for the thousand times he had seen his brother do exactly the same. But Angrboda was not Loki, for he was far more stubborn and unwiling to give up his secrets than she was, and she said simply, "Nidhoggr's talon, I would see it now, if you would allow it."

The black nail had broken into two pieces, each roughly the size of the other, and Thor thought that perhaps the Norns had given him another gift, so that he might have a reminder of this battle so that he would know to return here one day and finally finish this fight. So he did not mind parting with the other, the one she was so interested in, and her hands cradled it gently when he tossed it to her, her red eyes nearly glowing as she looked down at it.

"It is not that I plotted behind your back, son of Odin," she said and her voice was caught between wonder and something wry, perhaps the magic from such a thing had affected her more than Thor could feel for himself. "Merely that I had an unvoiced bargain that I was not sure how to approach. But now it seems to have rather literally fallen into my hands, meant to be."

Thor did not answer her, only kept his hand on Mjolnir's shaft at his side, ready for whatever she would try to do. But she merely shimmered before his eyes, pale coloring stealing over her skin and soft blonde hair flowing out from her head, and her eyes a light green that seemed washed out compared to the shade Thor was used to. Her Jotunn clothing was just enough to cover her chest and sex, thin strips of blue cloth that complemented her now Aesir-like skin, and a finely made necklace of runes around her neck.

Angrboda unclipped her cloak from around her shoulders, now shivering in the cold Niflheim air as she tossed the white fur to his feet. Her steps were light as she approached him, Thor not giving ground but not taking more from her either, until she set her hands lightly upon his shoulders, the black talon tucked away in her magic space. "You have my apologies for the misdirection," she said softly, her now pale pink lips turning up in an impish smile that settled well on her lovely face. "You shall not need the talon for your meeting with Garmr, so it will fare far better in my capable hands."

Now Thor did reach up to grasp her, one hand settling on her arm while his other still held Mjolnir tight. "If you plan to use it for ill or harm, know that I will hold myself responsible for it, and will undo all your work and see to it that you can bring no disaster others again."

Angbroda held up her hands in mock surrender, but he did not loosen his grip. "I swear that I have no plans for ill use of it."

"That is hardly an oath with no way out of it," Thor snapped, the thin restraint on his temper fraying fast for how much she reminded him of Loki in the way she smirked at him. "I would have your oath on it, with words that bind you more clearly. And even then know that my own still holds true."

"You are wiser now, perhaps, but certainly your temperment has not improved much," she said, but did not sound biting about it. Rather, she was amused and almost affectionate. "I see why the little fawn was always so taken with you. Very well, I swear that I will not use Nidhoggr's talon for ill on any who do not deserve it." She paused briefly and saw him ready to interrupt, for he would not let her slip another loophole in so easily. "Those who do not deserve it by your lofty standards, rather than my own. And I am no oathbreaker, son of Odin, so you need not press me any further and doing so would only insult your own trust in others."

Thor considered her for a moment and realized she spoke true. It was easy to assume that all Frost Giants were indeed the monsters of fairy tales, that none would have any honor to speak of, because none had such that Thor had yet to meet. But the long days between Loki's fall from the Bifrost and his return to Midgard had given Thor much time to think on the nature of a Frost Giant, that it was not that they hid their intent so easily--for Thor could not be moved in his knowledge that his childhood with Loki had been true--but that each was to be taken on their own merits.

So, perhaps he should not have rushed so quickly to judge even one who was known for being wily, as Angrboda of the Iron Wood was indeed.

This was another slow path to tread, but one that Thor would not leave so easily.

"You have had my vow and now you will have my trust then," he answered finally and let her arm go, surprised when she did not step back or remove her hands from his shoulders. "You have kept our bargain and only indulged in a bit of misdirection. You have earned more wariness than you would seem to accept, but not so much that I will reclaim your prize from you. Keep your treasure and use it as you will, so long as you harm none that do not deserve it, for your part in this journey has well earned it."

Angrboda had lost none of her height in this new form of hers, so she only lightly had to stand on the points of her toes to reach him, darting up to press her lips against his in a soft but dry kiss. Her mouth parted against his, but Thor did not respond and so she pulled back just as quickly, letting go of him and stepping away. If her smile was not as sharp or as genuine now, he would not comment on it and would let her blame it on the cold sinking into her paler skin, the shivers in her frame continuing to grow in pitch.

The snow swirled up around them, fluttering her hair and clinging to her skin in a way it could not touch her Jotunn blue, so she crossed her arms over herself as if that could keep out the primal cold. "One last exchange of gifts then," she said. "A kiss in the snows of Niflheim."

"This was not a gift for my sake," Thor said, but it was not cruelly spat at her, instead it was understanding and without pity. There were no shortage of those who would throw themselves at his feet, whether for his appearance or his station. And there were those who simply craved what he was, a god of storms and power, who could not be so easily moved from the path of good, whether they wanted it for themselves or to corrupt it. Thor had known many of them and did not mind the gift she'd taken. "And what do you plan to give me in return then?"

"Why, the price of the bargain itself and perhaps one bit of advice."

Thor could feel the pull of magic, not as a mage could, but well enough for having grown up surrounded by it, and he knew she would soon take her leave.

"Do not keep the talon for yourself," Angrboda said and the invsible veil between here and the shadow paths opened up for her hand. "Present it to the young fawn instead, so that he might have a shining prize awaiting him when he returns. It will tempt him mightly. And now, son of thunder, you have little need of my guidance, for all you need is to follow the path that Gjoll winds through the land and you will get to where you need. Have patience and you will be rewarded."

Then the veil closed around her, the frission between the worlds closed up, and Thor was alone once more, only the hiss of Gjoll's cold waters at his back.

*

The road along the banks of Gjoll was both more pleasant and less interesting once Angrboda had left, for Thor did not miss her company and had no need of her now, but the walk was long and there was little that ever changed. Even the rocks seemed to repeat themselves, shaped like an endless series of daggers that would shred anything that passed over them, should they not already be broken apart and carved into nothing but bits of flesh and flakes of bone by the deep cold of it. He was not even sure that even the hardiest of Aesir could survive its dark blue waters, despite the protections and warm fur that had been wrapped around him.

Angrboda had left the second cloak in exchange for Nidhoggr's talon, which had seemed a pointless trade to him, but she had spoken as if he would need it and the Norns wove strange paths at times. So Thor had wrapped it around himself, the second cloak not quite closing around his broader frame, but adding a pleasant warmth to his back. It did not change much of the journey, but when he finally stopped to rest, it made for a fine pillow against the hard snow-covered ground.

By his best reckoning, Thor walked for nine of Asgard's days, stopping for sleep only when his feet began to tire and he no longer wished to face the endless monotony of it. Angrboda's words often echoed back to him, that he must have patience in this, and so he did not falter in his steps, but it made it little easier to bear. The time at least gave him the chance to contemplate what he would say when he reached the inner lands of Hel, what he would bargain with and what he would say to Loki. It was a comfort most of the time, as he thought through the endless things Loki or Hel might say, how Thor could counter them with his own words.

But in the dead of night, when he woke from some forgotten memory or dream that he was not sure he truly had had, it was harder to hold onto all the things he would need to say, for Loki's words were always more twisting and clever than Thor's, always slithering off in a direction that Thor could not predict. And he had little idea of what the mistress of Hel would want in exchange for his brother's soul, what he would be willing to give up to her for it.

Or what oaths he would be asked to swear for it.

There was little Thor would not do for Loki, not now that he realized how badly he had failed his younger brother, that Thor had not _seen_ who had twisted Loki in his hands. After the battle with Thanos on Midgard, Thor had remembered the thought that had crossed his mind before, that someone had _shown_ Loki these things, that he'd nearly stumbled over a brick of the truth in Loki's stone wall of lies and warped perceptions, but he had let it slip through his fingers in the chaos they had brought to Midgard.

It had infuriated him when he'd remembered, that he could have pressed a little harder and perhaps much of this could have been avoided. There was so much that Thor could not blame himself for, as Loki's crimes were still his own, but Thor had been responsible for him, had taken that duty gladly as an older brother should, and he'd had little excuse for not thinking of it again afterwards when they had returned home, when he should have pressed Loki further. Instead he'd let his anger keep him distant from Loki, kept him from visiting the dungeons of Asgard so that he would not see the twisted, wretched thing his brother had become, using the excuse that they needed time away from each other to settle. It was an excuse that had turned to ash in his hands.

He'd overturned an entire war room when the thought had bubbled back up to the surface of his mind, had destroyed every decorative shield and broken every spear that had been hung on the wall. He'd not even needed Mjolnir to do it, only his bare hands ripping everything apart, for his brother was _dead_ and Thor had failed him.

Their mother had lingered in one of the far doorways to the room, watching him with sad eyes until he'd finally stopped, breathing hard against the overturned stone table in the center of the room. _You have a terrible habit of doing that,_ he'd heard in Loki's voice when he'd realized that he'd flipped it on its side, the parchments and scrolls and holographic emitters having been scattered across the floor in a mess. It had only made the ache worse, how clearly he could imagine his brother.

Despite his heavy thoughts and even worse mood, Frigga's steps were light as she approached her living son and her touch even softer. Her eyes were still rimmed with red and her face was etched with sadness that could no longer be banished even for a moment, her hair not as perfect as it should be, but still she was his mother and comfort radiated from her.

Thor had wanted to confess to her, how badly he'd failed Loki, how badly he'd failed them all, but the words had not come to him and he did not want to add to her burden even if he could have found the right ones. So instead he'd let her lean against his side, let her draw as much catharicism from his rage as he drew from her sorrow.

To break that pall that had descended over them, to keep his mother from the grief that bowed her shoulders and the burden that nearly bent his father in two, yes, there was little Thor would not give for that.

*

Rarely did Thor's thoughts turn to Jane, for the loss of her was still too fresh and the thought that it would be too easy to find her again, to start anew with her, when he knew that he could do no such thing. It was easier to think of Loki and their family, the one thing Thor could still put to rights if only he tried hard enough, was persistent enough in his quest.

Still, her visage swam through his mind often and there was little to pull his thoughts away when the path was so plain before him.

Even what little broke apart the monotony did not last long, for when Gjoll's bubbling stream finally began to bend and wind in a snake-like curve around the mountains that ringed the inner lands of Hel, it was only Gjallarbru that rose before him. It would still be a long walk on the other bank of the poisonous river before he would even reach the Helgate.

Yet here he must still cross, for it would be insult to use Mjolnir to pass over the river when Modgudr had done nothing to offend him. And she sat patiently by the side of the covered bridge, her blue skin far paler than most Frost Giants that Thor had known, making her seem as if she was halfway between life and death. She had no books or scrolls for passing the time, she simply sat on her plain wooden stool that did not even have so much as a stain finish, while she waited for the newly dead to cross her bridge.

"Hail, traveler," she said in greeting, her voice softer and nearly kind. Thor supposed that Hel was more a welcoming place than he'd imagined, for those who did not deserve a kind greeting and a gentle nudge in the right direction would already have been trapped back in Nastrond.

"Hail, bridge-keeper," he returned, one hand lifted as he made his way to her. "I am Thor Odinson and I would cross your bridge so that I might continue the path to Hel."

She did not have hair as an Aeisr would, but yet she had more than any other Frost Giant that Thor had laid eyes on, nearly the same shade as her skin, perhaps only a little paler, and it fell against her shoulder like living ice as she quizzically tilted her head. "You are not dead, so I do not know why you would make this journey, Thor Odinson."

"I must speak with the mistress of the dead, for she has something that must be returned to me."

Thor made certain that he kept his tone even and tempered, for he did not think that Hel would well appreciate the news that he had felled her guide for the recent dead and left Gjallarbru unguarded. Yet, despite that Nidhoggr was well behind him and the cold mists of Niflheimr could cool even his temper, there was still the urge to do battle here, to _fight_ his way to the prize he sought and make sure that he claimed it, those standing in his way only making the victory all the sweeter. And Mjolnir hummed at his side, ready should he reach for her and throw her into the fray once more.

But Modgudr did not rise from her seat and if she noticed his desire for battle, it could not be seen in the slow blink of her eyes. "When the dead pass over my bridge, it is a journey that will not be reversed and this is their fee. I cannot allow you to pass without payment, Thor Odinson."

Thor kept his hands at his sides, hidden underneath the cloak about his shoulders where it did not matter that they were clenched into fists. "And what would you ask as payment for passage over your bridge, guardian?"

It was as if this had not occurred to her, that he might pay a different sort of fee, and she stared at him for long moments, the softness of her eyes not kindness, but that which reminded him of the deer that had grazed the forests of Alfheim, when he had last sojourned there. There was great thought and intellect there, no will for harm to be found, yet there was no compassion to complement it, either. Thor could not understand the why of it, for he would have raged against so quiet a death and such easy acceptance, that there would be no _feeling_ in it, the emotion of it as gray as the landscape around them.

Yet he had not met a single soul who had seemed to fight it, but instead even those of Nastrond had seemed to sink into the nothingness of Niflheim.

Modgudr eventually turned her gaze from him, glancing across the simple landscape where only snow and rock and mist and poisonous stream awaited any who looked, and settled on the golden thatched roof of her bridge. It did not glimmer even in Sol's few fingers of light here, but neither was it dull to Thor's eye, the roof the warmest thing he'd yet seen in these lands. The canopy of it was thick over the bridge, so that even if it rained here, it would provide solid shelter, and the wooden floor a dull, drab color from age and being worn through with the spray of Gjoll's freezing waters, but looked as though they would hold for another eternity yet. Even the sides of the bridge were high enough that a splash from the poison flowing underneath it would not hurt any who passed through.

"Your hair," Modgudr answered, her hand pointing straight at his head.

"....my hair?"

She nodded once and replaced her hands into her lap. "A braid of your hair, for it shines even brighter than my bridge and would well match it, I think."

It was an odd request, one that Thor could not quite wrap his mind around, but... it did not seem a terrible price to ask. She had not even asked for all of it, to shorn him bald, and yet that was a price he would have paid as well. He had only a simple hunting knife used for skinning hide from meat and carving it into edible slices for roasting over a fire, but it served well enough, and Thor easily sliced through one of the thin braids at his temple.

"Use the leather thong at the end to tie it in a loop so that it does not come undone at the end," he said to Modgudr as he handed over her prize, the cut end already beginning to unravel.

Her fingers were lighter and quicker than he'd expected, wrapping the braid of his hair around her wrist and tucking the loose end into the other side, so that it formed a bracelet that held securely. It was loose around her wrist, so that it nearly fell off her hand, as his hair had grown long as of late, but she seemed pleased with it, as much as the placid, unmoving face of hers could show such a thing.

"My thanks for the payment, Thor Odinson. I wish you well on your journey. Simply continue to follow the path and you will find yourself where you need to be."

Thor nodded, wishing her well in return, and continued on his way, the floor of Gjallarbru creaking under his feet as he passed.

*

It was another nine days' journey along the opposite shore of Gjoll, with only his thoughts and the unending mountains and snow for company, until Thor finally spotted the mouth of Gnipahellir high up the side of one large rocky hill. When he paused, the sound of his boots crunching through the light snow silent for a moment, he could hear the low howl of a dog from a distance and any lingering doubt he'd had was gone. There were steep stairs carved into the side of the mountain that wound their way up to the cave, narrow and thin, so that a slight misstep would have a traveler careening off the side, were they not careful.

Instead, it was simply enough for Thor to spin Mjolnir at his side so that he could hurl her towards the overhanging cave, landing on the lip of it with only a few bits of gravel spilling out behind him to tumble down the side of the rocky cliff. And though it was difficult to see, for Niflheimr had little light even out on the open plains and there was even less in this cave, it was impossible to miss the large growling dog that sat up at his entry.

Its fur was a dark gray, as if it had once been white, but its time at Hel's gate had dulled it to a lusterless coat, and it was covered in still sticky blood, only discernable because the ends of the streaks were a dark red. Where the blood was thickest, around the muzzle of the giant dog and on its paws, it was as black as coal or the dead of night. If it was still fresh enough to leave prints on the ground, Thor could not see, for it was too dark for that, only the bright red glow of the dog's eyes lighting the way enough to see the animal itself.

"Heel, you hound, I would not fight with you," Thor said and it was not a lie, for he would pass by Garmr without incident, should the helhound settle once more and cease its snapping jaws. But it would be a lie to say that he would not enjoy such a fight, for the weeks of nothing but walking and only the one brief interruption had not served Thor well, and a battle with a beast of Hel appealed greatly.

But Garmr only continued to growl and snapped its teeth when Thor approached, lunging at him so it hit the length of chain around its neck, stopping only when forced. Not even the lightning flickering over Mjolnir's head or the way it wound up Thor's arm seemed to unsettle the dog or dampen its enthusiasm for the fight. It hardly seemed fair to have the dog on a leash while Thor had free range of movement, however, so he could not help the grin that stole across his face, a brief flash to match the burst of joy in him, as he flung his hammer at the stake that held Garmr's chain.

Within less than a moment of the stake being shattered underneath the powerful impact, Garmr was leaping forward with its teeth opened wide, glistening with saliva and stained dull with age and blood, so ferocious that Thor nearly laughed with delight. Mjolnir soared back to his hand when he called for her, easily channeling lightning once more, so that Garmr's jaws closed around the vibrating head of her, electricity licking its way down the beast's throat.

It only seemed mildly effective, but Thor did not mind the lack of an instant kill, for it would have been tragedy to finally have something to _fight_ only to have it felled within the span of a few mere moments. He shook the dog off Mjolnir's head, sending it skidding several paces away, almost half the length of the large cave, and noticed the glowing gate beyond. It did not beckon him as he'd half expected, so his full attention returned to the dog that lunged at him once again, more blood splattering the floor and walls of the cave as it leapt, the deep growls echoing in a way that made Thor's blood run all the hotter.

Garmr's teeth snapped once more at his arm, its clawed feet trying to find purchase on Thor's cloak and catching on the fur of it. Again, Thor shook the dog off to send it skittering across the cave's floor, far enough away that he could throw the cloak from his shoulders and let the dog come once more. There was no choice to kill the dog, for Hel's beloved hound would be missed and he would have even less to bargain with her, and more likely the few things that were not dead in Hel would stay as such, unless the mistress of Hel wished them otherwise.

So Thor struck the dog in the center of its chest as it leapt at him again, this time its snarling muzzle trying to reach his face, with clear intent to tear it off and bathe in Thor's blood as well. But instead it found itself easily flipped over Thor's head so that it crashed to the edge of the cave's lip, nearly clattering over the edge, and only its quick reflexes and claws dug into the dirt saved it. There was little doubt that it had not truly been hurt, so Thor strode forward in time to meet it springing forward again, its red eyes fever-bright in the darkness of the cave.

Thor hit it hard enough to send it flying backwards even further, so that this time it did sail right over the edge of the cave, a high pitched whimper as it found itself suddenly without any traction to use in its attack. For a few moments, it whined high and thin, until it landed with a great thud outside the cave and let out a ferocious roar. There was little doubt that the beast still had not suffered, even before Thor walked to the lip of the cave to peer down at the ground below to see Garmr shaking itself as it stood.

Blood flew in every direction from its fur, leaving a bursting pattern on the ground around it, and had Thor been a lesser god, he may well have been terrified at the sight of a Helhound rising up from the grim landscape in a spray of gore. But he was not and though the option to leave the beast there was likely the best path, for it would leave him free to open the Helgate before Garmr could make its way back to the cave, Thor found that he did not wish to leave the beast so soon.

"It would be easy to say that I fight you now to bring you to heel, to cow you into submission so that you would lead the way to your mistress without further fight," Thor said and his smile was no light-hearted thing. "But the truth is that I simply wish to beat you into the ground!"

And with that Thor jumped from the edge of the high cliff and met the demon hound in mid-air, as Garmr leapt at him with a snarl. Mjolnir crashed into the side of its large head, sending the arc of its jump off course while Thor landed with the ground giving way beneath his feet in great cracks and a cloud of dust. Garmr snarled and leapt again through the swirling rock and dust around Thor, but it could not see him properly so its aim was off and Thor easily crashed his hammer into the dog's chest, sending it back yet again.

"You are a beast of Hel!" Thor taunted it, while lightning crackled upon his fists. "Surely, this is not all you have for me!"

As if Garmr could understand his words--and perhaps the Helhound could, Thor did not know--it loosed a great howl and seemed to draw a renewed strength to itself, the blood seeping through its fur even thicker now, despite that it had no wounds to bleed and was likely not even from Garmr's veins. With a snarl that was more ferocious than any before it, the dog leapt again and slammed its teeth against the vambrace on Thor's arm, the impact hard enough that it would have shattered any other god's bones.

Even Thor felt the shock of it travel up his arms and into his shoulders, an instant deep ache that would take days to heal. Yet it was a distant feeling, the bloodlust already pounding in his veins again, burning away the pains of battle so that it was like they were never there. Thor laughed and swung his arm in a long arc so that Garmr was sent skidding backwards and could only meet the head of Thor's hammer when they crashed together again.

Again and again they met as god and dog flung themselves at each other, each growing ever stronger with every arc of hammer or snapping of teeth. Even when Thor could feel Garmr's teeth creaking against Mjolnir's head or the one time he grabbed at the longest of the front teeth while his hammer was shoved deep between Garmr's jaws, even then they only grew more ferocious with each other. He'd nearly twisted Mjolnir free from those vicious teeth before the dog had yelped and snapped his head back, retreating back a few paces while it licked at the blood pouring down its teeth.

Thor wondered if it was the first time tasting its own blood, rather than that of others.

Not that Garmr had not drawn blood, for there were deep gouges on Thor's arm where the hound had torn through the mail, bleeding only sluggishly but still true battle wounds. They did not sting as they should, not while Garmr's red eyes blazed as brightly as the rush in Thor's head, lighting everything in this world with a red haze, and so Thor only swung Mjolnir once again.

Until finally Garmr flew at him with such high velocity that Thor used its momentum against it, swinging the foul beast around until it flew in an arc so high it was nearly the same height as Thor had used to fly over Nidhoggr. It forced Garmr back towards the mountains, crashing several lengths away from the mouth of Gnipahellir, and it skittered down the side in a fall of rocks and dust and blood.

Even still, Garmr stood on trembling legs, with a snarling mouth full of its own blood and Thor thought it the greatest sight he had seen in his recent memory! To have a foe that he could raise Mjolnir against so well was glorious!

And then, as if hearing a call only a hound could hear, the dog tipped its head to one side and shuddered on its feet. Thor could see that its mistress called to it and he wanted to rage at her skies and tear apart her lands for taking this fight from him! He had given up Nidhoggr already, it was too much to ask him to give up this as well! He would fight this beast, no matter what Hela tried to steal from him!

But Garmr only shuddered, not from its mistress' call, but from the injuries Thor had dealt to it and he could see that the dog would not last much longer, the roaring of his berserker rage now swirling angrily with nowhere to go. The victory was his and yet it did not taste as it should! He had been denied the final blow, the vicious crunch of the dog's skull underneath his hammer and the breaking of its bones that would not heal again!

Yet Garmr only lowered its head, its red eyes half-lidded and tamed, its tail now tucked between its legs, as it trotted gingerly towards the stairs on the side of the mountain. Thor watched it go, trying to let the rage bleed away from him, but it was slow and difficult. There was no gentle hand on his arm or desperate clawing into his shoulder to pull him back from this, it was only his own will and thoughts that gave him enough anchor to ride out this tidal wave.

As the Helhound disappeared back into the cave, Thor decided that he was ready enough, he cared not for calm when he would have more than enough time to let the rest seep away as he walked through Hel itself. With a quick spin of Mjolnir, he flew back to the cave and strode through it, Garmr back on his chain as if it had never left, while it huddled in the corner and turned its face away from Thor.

Briefly, Thor paused by the dog's turned back and considered the nearly sulking form, his hammer itching to meet its bones again. But he continued on, where the Helgate opened easily at his touch.

There was still a long way to go yet.


End file.
